Those Who Matter Don't Mind
by smarmy89
Summary: Santana and Brittany are both 24 years old and living the average City life. A mutual agreement of the sexual, no-strings-attached type seems like the perfect solution to long work hours, but will their feelings eventually get in the way?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this is my first attempt at writing anything on here so comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated :) hope you enjoy!**

**Santana and Brittany are both 24 years old and living the average city life. A mutual agreement (of the sexual, no-strings-attached type) seems like the perfect solution to long work hours, but will they be successful in keeping their arrangement, or will feelings get in the way? **

Idiots. They're everywhere.

Sometimes I missed the feeling you have when you're young and naïve, free of the stresses and obligations that undoubtedly accompany an adult life. I remember when I was younger and thought that 'grown-ups' had the answers to everything, that any problem could be solved with a mere maternal kiss to the forehead. Oh how wrong I was. My childish sense of security and happiness was dashed into the ground at the ripe age of seven. A divorce that left my mother a bitter and cold version of her prior self, and my father, in the clutches of a desperate theatre nurse (more than 15 years his junior- a requirement in these sorts of cases, of course!) was the beginning of the end for my childhood.

At first I would cry in my room and hope that when my father visited on weekends my mother would somehow forgive him. It wasn't long however, until I started to see the truth: adults are just the end result of being poorly raised children, we're all doomed to suffer at our parents hands and consequently inflict the same damage upon our own offspring. My guess is that Adam and Eve made some serious parenting mistakes and now we're all fucked. It's a vicious cycle or something.

"Santana". I flinched at the sound. "Santana, can you please answer me?"

That's right...Idiots. I was talking about idiots. Rachel frigging Berry, I had to endure her nasal rants for four whole years, plus the out-of-school hours required by the Glee club, and yet someone saw fit to punish me with her presence in my professional life as well. Evidently a career on Broadway can be substituted with a relatively well paid marketing job and a brief stint in the Kelly-Wright production of "Pinocchio".

"Santana, I'd really appreciate it if you could at least _pretend_ to be listening to me" she says with a petulant stamp of her foot.

"Listen, Berry" I say in as condescending tone as possible, "I've told you time after time that I simply don't know! Last I heard Frodo was still in the mythical land of Valinor but who knows? Maybe if you screech loud enough the call of the hobbits will entice him thus?" I chuckle inwardly at my own wit- pretty good for being excruciatingly hung-over at 7:30 am on a Monday morning.

"Very funny Santana" she huffs "Back to the hobbit jokes I see? Clearly you need to lay of the jack and cokes, at least on work nights because you're loosing your touch with the verbal insults".

Ouch. "Too far Rach! What the hell? You know I can only dish it out on Mondays" I say as I slump forward at my desk with a pathetic pout. "My vicious retorts don't return until at least coffee time on a Tuesday".

Okay so maybe Rachel Berry's presence isn't as painful as I sometimes make it out to be. Turns out being raised by two gay dads made her the perfect ally for a lesbian head cheerleader in a Lima, Ohio high school.

"Sorry Santana, but the coffee cart guy leaves in fifteen minutes and I'm not running all the way to Starbucks just so you can function minimally for the next 11 hours" she says with an amused laugh.

"Vanilla latte, I'll have a vanilla latte" I say with my forehead pressed firmly against the cool wood of my desk. A brisk tapping reaches my ear as I watch my feet stretch out the pains of a weekend spent dancing in heels. I look up to see Rachel standing in the doorway clutching her wallet under her left arm and her eyebrows raised while she taps her foot expectantly. "I'll have a vanilla latte _please, _Rachel".

After flashing a brief but triumphant smile she adds, "oh and Santana, don't forget we have that board meeting at 4 this afternoon" as she turns towards the hallway, "I know Lisa hasn't shown up today but that's no excuse for missing it, you've had it marked in your diary for over two weeks, okay?"

Lisa was my personal assistant until around sometime last night. I'm guessing it was right around the time I pulled my fingers from between her still clenching thighs and told her she needed to leave my apartment pronto because the game was about to start. It was seven drinks later and a glorious loss for those bastards from Ohio State (to some team wearing orange) until I could get the image of her pathetic blubbering out of my mind and gather the energy to go out clubbing. All in all it was a pretty good night.

I'm torn from my pleasant memory with a side comment from a departing Rachel "Oh and don't forget we're going out for dinner to celebrate Kurt's big promotion on Friday, so don't go making any other plans".

"Hold up" I yell, "Since when was I roped into that bullshit? I thought I made it very clear, Fridays are for 'me time' and don't involve the homosexual workings of one Kurt Hummel" I say while trying to hold my head off the desk.

"It's a whole four days a way Santana, find some _me time_" she emphasizes with air quotes "during the week. And also, I don't think that it can be classified as me time when some chick you just picked up at a club has her head between your legs" she says with an unimpressed smile gracing her face. "Besides, Mike is bringing some girl from his dance studio and apparently she's bisexual and one hundred percent single". She says with a proud air about her.

"You do realize that just because we're both attracted to girls doesn't mean we'll automatically hit it off?"

"All I know is that you are a 24 year old woman who needs to settle down someday".

"All I needs right now is a vanilla latte so hop to it hobbit" I say in an exasperated tone as my neck gives up the fight against gravity and my head meets the desk with a dull thud.

"You never know Santana, she could be _the one_?" she says in a singsong voice finally exiting my office "I'll make sure Mike tells Brittany you're looking forward to meeting her."

I sigh and lift my head up from the desk. There's no way I'm going on Friday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys, **

**sorry this next chapter took so long! Just finished the semester so I have a month to write as much as I like :)  
**

**Anyway I hope you all like this next chapter. It's from Brittany's point of view this time  
**

_(Brittany's Point of View)_

After a grueling hour and a half of hip-hop, I find myself collapsing in the corner next to my bag, completely exhausted. The muscles in my legs are burning and I'm so focused in the pursuit of my water bottle that I don't even hear Mike approach me. "Hey Brit, you really brought it today!" he says with a smile and a pat to my shoulder.

"Thanks Mike" I respond as I continue searching for my water bottle in the mess that seems to have consumed my dance bag. "You were pretty awesome yourself". I like it when Mike compliments me because then I can compliment him back and it's always true. I like saying nice things when they're true.

I've only known Mike for around six months, but it feels like a lot longer. He's one of those guys who you can tell straight away isn't going to put the moves on you. Which was exactly what I needed when I made the move to Columbus and first took up the teaching position at his studio. You see, one of the reasons I decided to move out here was to get away from the people I'd spent my entire childhood with. Most people would consider it a blessing to have grown up in the same place, getting to experience the first day of elementary, then junior high and eventually graduating from high school together. But for me it meant being stuck with the people who had witnessed all of my embarrassing moments- actually that's a lie, not all of them, because some embarrassing things happened at home too, so they didn't see those. But still, there were a lot.

In the second grade, my friend Tanner made me laugh so hard that I peed in my pants. I didn't really care, mainly because I never used to care what people thought of me, but also because hearing something that's funny enough to laugh that hard is worth a little pee in your pants. I can't remember what the joke was about anymore, but I can still remember all the mean names I got called (mainly because they still get used seventeen years later), and I definitely remember the diapers they put in my locker on the first day of junior high. And then again on the first day of High school- you'd think they could come up with something different the second time around, but I guess it had been so successful in educating the kids starting from different schools about my nickname of 'Britt-pee' that it was worth repeating. Why fix what aint broke right?

That's just one example of things I wish I could erase. Those sorts of things never bothered me when I was younger, in fact the only reason they started to bother me was because Tanner, my best and only friend decided on the second day of our freshman year that he wanted to be popular and have a girlfriend, and that he couldn't have that while being my friend. It didn't matter that I had asked him out three days before. I was confused because he had said yes and I was really happy, but he must have changed his mind because on the second day of high school Tanner and his new friend from the football team threw slushies in my face. I knew we weren't friends anymore because Tanner had thrown a grape slushie at me, and he knows I can't stand grape.

That was the first day I cried in the girls bathrooms during lunch, and the first day I realized that everyone had been laughing at me. Before then, I had been too busy laughing with Tanner to hear them.

For the majority of freshman year I was completely miserable. Every time I got laughed at for saying the wrong answer in class I would remember that I didn't have a friend anymore to distract me. It only started to get better when I stopped caring. Since the teachers realized they shouldn't expect anything from me, I started to realize that I didn't have to expect anything from myself either. Instead of thinking about class, I started making up dance routines in my head and when I absolutely had to answer a question or speak at all I made it as short and blunt as possible. I started to learn that if people thought I was stupid, they didn't feel they had to try so hard to hurt me. It was probably the smartest thing I ever learned in school.

At the beginning of sophomore year the new girl, Quinn Fabray, saw me doing somersaults on the bleachers after school and convinced me to join the cheer squad with her. I agreed because she smiled at me and no one had done that in a long time.

Being on the cheerios was both good and bad. Good because no one threw slushies in my face anymore, but bad because I had to work harder at trying to concentrate on thinking up dance routines. My blunt way of responding and my reluctance to speak was no longer considered stupid or weird, but since donning the cheerios uniform, seen as just a typical bitch attitude. It worked well for me, plus I had a new friend in Quinn.

Quinn is pretty and blonde and is still my best friend today, I could never figure out why she decided to be nice to me that day on the bleachers. It was only since she convinced me to move in with her 6 months ago that she admitted that she used to get picked on at her old high school.

In junior year Quinn convinced me to go my first party. I got really drunk and danced a lot, and I kissed a lot of people- It was so much fun. I liked how everyone treated me at parties; I knew how to dance so that boys would cover their crotch with their hands. Everything was going really well until junior prom. At the after party, Tanner decided we should start dating but I told him no and he got mad. He called me a slut and I think that made everyone realize how many people I had kissed- boys and girls. After that everyone thought I was a slut even though I had never had sex. It was half way through senior year before I lost my virginity. Her name was Susie and she was in my algebra class. We were both drunk but I still remember that it felt really good. Susie told her best friend, and her best friend told her brother from the year below us, Luke Hyde. Luke told me that if I didn't have sex with him he'd tell everyone that Susie and I had done it. I didn't really care if people knew, they'd all seen me kiss girls before, but Susie's dad was the local pastor and I knew she'd get in trouble. After Luke, there was Scott and James, and before long, the rumor that I was slut became fact.

I never cared about people thinking I was a slut until I asked Matt, a guy from my gym class if he would go to senior prom with me. I had liked him for a really long time, he always smiled at me and we used to talk sometimes since his locker was next to mine. I though he would say yes since we were friends, but he told me he didn't want to because of how many other guys I'd been with. I was really upset after that and decided that I didn't want people to think I was a slut anymore.

After high school, Quinn got into Yale and moved away so I was back to not really having any friends. I worked at a bar for the next five and a bit years, and spent all my time thinking about dance. It was okay, but I was still surrounded by my old classmates and plagued by my reputation as being a diaper-needing whore.

When Quinn's job relocated her to Columbus she started trying to convince me to move there too. She had a new friend called Tina, whose boyfriend owned a dance studio and was looking for another teacher. Long story short, Tina's boyfriend was Mike, and I got the job.

Mike was the first guy in my adult life that I could call a friend. He didn't know that I had slept with lots of people and I ended up fitting in well with his, Tina, and Quinn's friends. For the first time in my life I think I can truly say I'm happy. The only thing that could make me happier is if I was in a real relationship, with someone who loves me and doesn't think I'm stupid or a slut.

"Britt?" I lose my train of thought as Mike waves his hand in front of my face. "You listening to me?" he asks with an amused smile on his face. I nod and smile apologetically.

"I asked if you were still up for going out tonight?" he asks with a smirk playing at the corner of his lips "One of Tina's friends is celebrating a job promotion or something, and that girl we were telling you about will be there". I can hear the excitement in his voice.

Mike and Tina are the type of couple who like to play matchmaker. Apparently they've set up nine happy couples to date, and are convinced that Tina's high school friend would be perfect for me. They both squealed with joy when they realized I was bisexual. Yes, squealed is the perfect description for the noise they made.

"Yea definitely, I'm looking forward to it actually!" It wasn't a lie. After hearing about Santana, Tina's friend, I couldn't wait to meet her. They said she's beautiful and feisty. After being single for so long, beautiful and feisty sounds akin to perfect to me. Also, it's really hard to meet other girls who like girls, especially in Ohio. Not that I wont date a nice guy if I meet the right one, but I've met so many bad ones lately I've kind of stopped looking. I think maybe I lean more towards ladylove.

"That's great Britt! Just be your usual charming self and she'll love you!" says mike with a smile "Tina and I will be at the restaurant around 6.30, Quinn's been there before so make sure you take a cab with her".

A shower, and make-up later, and Quinn and I are hopping out of the cab outside of a small Italian restaurant. "Listen Britt" Quinn says, "I don't want you to get too excited about Santana okay? She just has a tendency to bail out on us a lot, okay? I don't want you to get hurt".

"Quinn, it's fine. I'm the appropriate amount of excited to meet her," I laugh. _Well that's a lie,_ I think to myself. I haven't been this excited since the limited edition sparkly marshmallow rainbow was added to lucky charms.

"Okay" she smiles and hugs me. "Let's go inside".


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay guys, this is a little longer than the others chapters and I hope you like it. **

-Brittany's point of view-

Walking into the restaurant, I had an excited and nervous feeling in my tummy. Of course I was excited to meet Santana, but this was also the first time I was meeting Quinn's other friends. I had already met Mercedes and Puck, and obviously Mike and Tina, but tonight Tina's friends from her high school glee club would be here too. Meeting friends was so much more important to me since I graduated high school, I no longer felt like I wanted to hide away in my thoughts as much, instead I found that having people to talk about your problems made everything seem not so bad.

Tina and Mike were the first of the group that I met. On the second day I moved out here I had a job interview with Mike, and since Quinn couldn't get out of working that afternoon she organized for Tina to pick me up and take me to the studio. It was really sweet of her to pick me up, and since I was really nervous about the interview she stopped on the way and bought me some ice cream. That was when I knew Tina would be a good friend. Only really good friends think to buy you ice cream when you're nervous. We talked the whole way to the studio, and I had completely forgotten to be nervous by the time I was shaking Mike's hand and introducing myself.

**6 months ago…**

"Hi, I'm Quinn's friend Brittany"

"It's so great to finally meet you Brittany, Quinn's told me so many great things about you!" he said with a smile. "So I was thinking we could just do a half hour run through of some of the routines you'd be teaching, and then head over to meet Quinn on her break?"

"That sounds awesome!" I say, feeling much more relaxed; I'm good with remembering routines. I was worried that I'd have to sit down and tell him why he should give me the job. I can dance much better than I can talk.

After going through about three different routines, Mike seemed pleased with my progress, so we started to make our way back to the staff area. "You can take a shower before we go if you want?" Mike said as he ran his towel over his sweat-covered face. Even though we had only danced for half an hour, we were both pretty tired. It felt good to be dancing with someone who could keep the same pace as me and still have fun. When I was on the cheerios, some of the girls could keep up okay but they complained a lot, and it's never much fun when people complain.

After showing me around the staff room, Mike left to head to the men's bathroom, and I grabbed my towel and headed to the door with a ballerina wearing a tutu on it. It was nice in there, everything seemed to be a different shade of white, with the only color being a light lavender that matched the smell of the air freshener. There was even a little shell shaped soap on the sink and in the shower that smelled the same as the room. I think if I had to make a list of rooms I wanted to spend time in for no particular reason, this would make the top of the list, which is strange because normally I hate bathrooms.

I remember when I was younger and I was really picky about the bathrooms I would, or rather, wouldn't use. My Mom would get really embarrassed if we went over to her friends' house and I needed to use the bathroom, because if it wasn't really clean I would walk straight back out and announce to my Mom I couldn't use it because it was stinky, or their toilet was too icky. One time, Mrs. Toulder from down the street was so offended, that she just walked straight to her bedroom and locked the door. My Mom gave me a frown and just picked up her bag and we left. I don't think Mom and Mrs. Toulder had lunch again after that, which I think is silly. You can't get upset when someone says your bathroom isn't very nice when it's the truth. I definitely wasn't lying about it either, I would've rather held on for eternity. I would have gotten a sore tummy, but the alternative would have been much worse.

After my shower I got dressed as fast as possible. I had been enjoying the warm shower streaming over my face and lost track of time. I really didn't want to be the reason we couldn't meet up with Quinn on her break. Walking down the corridor to the reception I could hear Mike and Tina speaking in hushed tones, so I slowed down and tried to catch what they were saying. After hearing my name I froze, and had a mental argument with myself trying to decide whether or not to walk into the room. I think if someone had seen me in that moment, I would have looked very strange, my feet were heading one way but my body was heading another.

"What about Sam?" Tina hushed. "Him and Brittany would make the most adorable couple".

"I'm not sure, I think he's too hung up on Mercedes right now to even consider being with someone else".

I stood awkwardly with my mind and body torn on which direction I should move in.

"If only she leaned Satan's way" Tina sighed.

"Yea, Brittany is exactly the she-devil's type too, and I reckon they'd be really good for each other" Mike replied. "San really does deserve someone sweet and caring".

Satan? She-devil? Who are these people? I decide to ask Quinn about it later, cough and walk the rest of the way down the hallway, shuffling my feet loudly. Rounding the corner into the light-filled room finds Tina and Mike leaning against the counter with matching large smiles. "Ready to go?" Tina asked chirpily.

I smile and nod, and we all made our way towards Tina's car.

One of Quinn's friends from work joined us for coffee, Mercedes scared me a bit at first, but it turned out we both really liked hip-hop music and she was really easy to talk to.

That night we all headed out to a bar down the street from Quinn and my apartment, it was called Bar Puckerman, and was owned by Mike's friend Noah. It wasn't long after meeting Puck that Quinn had to remove his lips from my neck; apparently Puck was a player and tended to drink on the job. Quinn was mad, but I didn't mind because Puck told me he was sorry and poured me a drink that tasted like apples and cream. Since that night, I often head down to the bar and sit with Puck. He makes me apple drinks and we talk about sports, and girls. I mainly listen about the sports, but we both talk about girls.

**Present day…**

With the waitress leading the way, Quinn and I approached the table. There were only two people I didn't recognize sitting there and both were men, so I relaxed when I realized Santana obviously wasn't there yet, that meant could get a drink and calm my nerves before I met her. I pointed this out to Quinn, but she didn't seem to share my excitement.

After saying hello to Tina and Mike, Puck and Mercedes, Quinn introduced me to Kurt and Blaine. My Mom always taught me to never judge people on first appearances, but I didn't need Kurt kissing Blaine on the lips to tell me he was about as straight as a circle. Both of them were really nice, Kurt and Blaine were like Tina and Mike; they'd been together since high school. As the waitress took our drink orders, I nervously started to play with napkin in my lap.

"So Brittany, how are you finding Columbus so far?" Kurt asked with a kind smile.

"Really good actually" I respond "It feels a lot bigger than back home in Bedford, but I love teaching with Mike, and it's so awesome living with Quinn".

"That's great!" Blaine says as he puts his arm around Kurt "Hopefully we'll get to see you more from now on, it's all been so crazy lately what with Kurt working for this promotion and all".

"Oh yeah!" I say excitedly "congratulations! Mike said we were out celebrating someone's promotion".

"Thanks, I've been working for the magazine for about 3 years now, and I've been vying for the fashion column since I started" Kurt says, matching my enthusiasm.

"Actually" Blaine interrupts with a smile "he's been 'vying' for a fashion column since before he was born I think". The two men share loving smiles as the rest of the table laugh. As I take a sip from my drink and turn to ask Quinn a question, a small brunette approaches the table and starts saying hi to everyone. I watch her nervously; it's obvious that she's pretty but for some reason wasn't what I was expecting.

"Hi, I'm Rachel" she says as I exhale with relief.

"Hi I'm Brittany, it's nice to meet you. Quinn never stops talking about you". It's true, Quinn does talk about her all the time, and the funny thing is that it's obvious she's trying not too, because every so often it's like she realizes she's been talking about Rachel for too long and changes the subject abruptly. It's normally to something weird, like what sort of cheese goes with different crackers. I think I must have missed something while I was thinking about cheese, because when I turn to Quinn I can see she's all red in the cheeks, and both her and Rachel are looking like their eyes are trying to run away from each other. That would be funny.

As Quinn drinks the last half of her drink in one go, Rachel regains her composure. "So Brittany, I've heard you're a really great dancer," she says with a wide smile. "Despite going into the corporate world, my talents lay soundly within the performing arts world."

"Oh cool, I didn't realize you liked performing" I lie. I wasn't joking when I said Quinn talked about her a lot.

"Oh absolutely, it's my calling" she says enthusiastically as I slowly lose focus on what she was talking about. Quinn told me if I got nervous about meeting everyone I should just stick with Rachel and mention Broadway or singing. Apparently dancing is an appropriate Segway into both those topics because I occasionally hear words like "Les Mis" or "Barbara".

Rachel's rambling is interrupted by a good-looking blonde man arriving and saying hello to everyone. He's tall and has a kind face, super big lips, but still kind looking. As he gets round to Mercedes, I notice him pause as he leans in really close to kiss her cheek. I think if we weren't in a busy restaurant I'd want to leave, because I feel like I'm interrupting something really private. I think Rachel feels the same way because she coughs a bit obnoxiously and asks Sam if he drove here.

Sam was really nice; he ended up sitting directly across from Quinn and I so we talked for a while until the waitress came to take our orders.

"Shouldn't we wait for Santana?" I ask. I regret it straight away, because there are so many different reactions from everyone that I feel a bit like I'm on a carousel. Mike and Tina look like they have clothes hangers stuck in their mouths, Quinn looks a bit angry and starts playing absently with her phone, while the rest all adopt similar cheeky smirks.

"Oh, Santana's always late to everything" Rachel says reaching over to put a hand on my arm. "But don't worry, she'll be here". She says with a wink.

"So, this is the girl you're setting Santana up with?" Sam says to Mike and Tina, his tone laced with a sense of amused realization.

"Yep" Mike and Tina say in unison looking over at me. "She's perfect, right?" Tina says excitedly.

Sam laughs and agrees, while the others all mutter words of agreement. I think I hear "blonde" and "tall" a couple of times. I feel a bit like I'm on display, so I start shaking the salt and pepper onto the table absentmindedly and drawing shapes in the mess.

"Oh don't look like that Quinn" Mike says, breaking my daydreaming "Santana's not that bad, besides Rachel said she agreed to come out tonight".

"Whatever" Quinn huffs, "all I know is that I've been hanging out with you guys for well over a year, and I think I've seen Santana show up to a place that isn't a bar, when she said she would about 5 times. Britt's my best friend and I don't want you guys getting her hopes up, especially if Santana is just going to be "Santana"", she emphasizes with air quotes.

I don't get why Quinn wouldn't want Santana to be Santana, she was always telling me to be myself so it seems strange that she'd want the opposite for someone else. I decide to focus back on my pile of salt and pepper and let them argue away. I remember back in high school and Quinn would always stick up for me, one time, Lisa from my biology class asked me if I cared that Quinn was 'constantly fighting my battles for me'. I think she was trying to tell me to stick up for myself, because she had on the same voice my mom uses when she wants me to realize I've done the wrong thing. When I asked Quinn at lunch that day why she sticks up for me, she said it was because I never care about what people said about me, but that the things they say upset her, so technically she was just sticking up for her own feelings. I told her that I did care what people said about me sometimes and she gave me a look I didn't really understand and said she'd keep defending me then. I'm not sure how long I was daydreaming, but Rachel tapping me on the hand interrupts my daydreaming. "Brittany?"

When I look up at her I notice that Quinn, Tina and Mercedes aren't at the table. "They went to the bathrooms," Rachel says, noticing where I'm looking.

"So I was thinking," she says with a smile and an excited clap of her hands "I should probably give you a lesson in all that is Santana Lopez. She's one of my best friends and even though Quinn is overreacting a little about her previous behavior, I do concede that she may have a point".

I smile at Rachel "Okay, I guess that'd cool. But can't I just wait and meet her and if I have any question about her I'll just ask you?"

"No" she says bluntly. "Santana is a wonderful girl but I think I should definitely verse you in the sort of behavior you might see. For example, if you hear anyone say that 'Snix' is about to emerge then I highly suggest you leave the room, and fast. The only people who can calm down Santana when she goes into Snix-mode are Puck or Quinn.

"Why not you" I ask, "I thought you were her best friend."

From the look on Rachel's face, I guess that I've struck a nerve. "Santana and I haven't always been the best of friends, it was only towards the end of our high school careers that we became close," she says in hushed tones. "It would seem that Snix is more reminiscent of a Santana from before our friendship blossomed".

Hearing Rachel talk about Santana this way is starting to make me a little nervous so I start chewing anxiously on my nails. It's a bad habit; my Mom even tried painting my nails with that sour nail polish a couple of years ago but it didn't work.

"Look, I'm sure all this talk isn't making Santana sounds too great, but I promise Brittany, Santana is one of the best people I know" she says with a comforting smile. "She's been through a lot, and she tends to be very defensive. But you seem so sweet, and I think that you are the perfect person to get through those walls".

I smile and look down at my hands, blushing at the compliment. I really hope I'm the right person because Santana has a lot of really great friends who all seem to want to see her happy, which means she must be pretty great.

As Quinn, Tina and Mercedes get back to the table our food arrives. "I was just telling Brittany more about Santana" Rachel says to Tina.

"I'm so excited for you guys to meet" Tina squeals while the rest of the table laughs.

I look over at Quinn, who's frowning and grab her hand reassuringly. "I'm actually really excited to meet her. I've been single for a really long time and it'd be so nice to meet a girl in the same position as me" I say with a smile.

"By 'position'" Puck pauses, "does she mean 'lady-loving'?" he says to a collective eye roll from those seated at the table.

"Yes, Puck" Quinn laughs "this is the one time you'll be correct in thinking a girl is talking about 'lady-loving'".

Puck fist bumps the air. "Oh and Britt, Santana might be the she-devil sometimes, but what she lacks in personality, she makes up for in…'assets'" he says emphasizing the first syllable. "Seriously, Santana is banging hot!"

I laugh as the rest of the group groan collectively. "Cool, Puck" I say still laughing.

Half an hour later and having heard about a thousand and one stories about Santana, we've all finished our meals. Rachel has made about ten trips to the ladies room, and I was going to ask her if she was feeling okay as she sat back down at the table, but Tina beats me to it. Rachel gives Tina a look that apparently everyone at the table besides me understands because I feel the general mood shift from the previously cheery one.

I stare at my hands as Quinn and Rachel start a silent fight; it's like the battle of the raised eyebrows. I would laugh, but I think this might be one of those times that you're not supposed to.

"Britt, I'm so sorry but Santana's not coming out tonight".

"Oh". My stomach sinks. I don't hear any more of what they're saying, I can just feel the heat emanating from my cheeks. I can't tell if it's from shame or embarrassment, whichever it is, it doesn't feel very nice.

"This has nothing to do with you Britt" Quinn says soothingly as she brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ears. "This is just how Santana can be some times".

I can't remember when I've felt more embarrassed. All the stupid things I've ever done in my life, and this is now the worst of all. I can't help thinking I should have listened to Quinn when she told me not to get my hopes up. Maybe she knows that I'm just not the relationship type, maybe I was stupid for getting so excited about a girl I haven't even met.

"I think I'm just going to head home," I say flatly.

"No Britt, we're all going to head to the bar down the street, you should come with" Rachel says while everyone else nods.

Quinn's hand rubbing soothing circles on my back makes me feel a bit better but I'm so embarrassed about getting all excited for no reason, so I stand up abruptly and mutter to Quinn that I'll see her at home. She gives me an apologetic look but I'm thankful she doesn't follow me. That's one of the good things about Quinn; she knows when you want to be left alone.

When the fresh air hits my face, I feel a brief sense of relief, and then everything hits me. I know I'm overreacting, but I can't help the tears that start falling. Maybe it's the drinks I've had tonight, but I feel like an idiot. Who get's excited about meeting a complete stranger? I should have just told Tina I don't do relationships and then I wouldn't have made a complete fool out of myself in front of everyone by acting so excited. I think I'm just one of those people who will never find a relationship, people always tell me I'm hot but not 'marriage material'. I used to think they were just saying it to be rude, but maybe they had a point.

I'm not sure how long I've been walking but the tears on my face have dried and my ears start picking up a thumping bass. I look up and see I'm outside a club just a few blocks from my apartment and decide I'm not ready to go to bed yet and head inside.

The music is super loud, and I can feel it in my chest. Normally I like really heavy bass like that, but tonight it's making my stomach feel kind of sick. I head to the bar and grab a seat at the end, it isn't long before I get the bartenders attention and he's making me a drink. I can't remember what Puck calls the drink I like, so I just ask for something strong.

The shot he gives me burns all the way down my throat, but it feels good, so I pay for two more. After deciding dancing will make me feel better I head for the dance floor. It's not long before I'm getting lost in the music. This is what I love about dancing; I don't have to think about anything, it just happens. People always ask me where I learned to dance, but I only started lessons when I was finished school and earning enough money at the bar to pay for them. You don't teach someone 'how' to dance, you can only teach them the routine and hope for the best.

I'm not sure how many songs have passed, but I'm starting to feel a bit like I need to lean on something, so I find an empty stool back by the end of the bar and put my head down on the cool surface of the counter. All I can hear is the heavy bass and my own heartbeat, until I feel hot breath in my ear.

"Wow, you're a natural, you can't just teach someone to dance like that". Her breath is warm, and her voice husky, and it makes my tummy flip.

**That's chapter three done! I haven't had a whole lot of response or feedback so far so I'm not sure if I'll keep going on this story. But we'll see. Anyway, hope you all liked it!**


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry I disappeared for a while! I ended up having to work a heap over the holidays. But I'm back into the swing of things now. Anyway i hope you like this chapter, and thanks so much for all the kind reviews :) I swear I wasn't fishing for reviews last chapter! Just not experienced writing stories, so a bit apprehensive about how people might receive this one. This chapter hopefully explains Santana a little more, last chapter a couple people seemed unimpressed with Santana being rude, so hopefully you can forgive her after reading this :) anyway, happy reading!

**Santana's point of view**.

By the time Friday afternoon rolls around, I'm about ready to get my fiesta on.

Hence why I'm currently pulling one over on my gullible best friend.

"I'm just really not feeling well Rach" I cough while feeling my own forehead.

"Do you think it's contagious?" she asks with worry evident in her voice "because you probably shouldn't come out tonight if it is Santana". _Nailed it, _I sing internally.

"I dunno if it's contagious, but I definitely wont be good dinner company so I think I'll just go home and sleep it off" I say with my best attempt at feigning lethargy "It just sucks that I'll miss the dinner is all" I say, throwing in a small pout for good effect.

"Oh, not to worry Santana!" Rachel says with a pat on my back "I'll just call Kurt and we can rearrange it for tomorrow night". As Rachel turns around and starts shuffling through papers on her desk I swear I see a hint of a smirk on her face.

"W-well" I stutter "but Rach, I'm sick!" I say far too pathetically for someone who's only pretending to be unwell.

"Look Santana, you can cough all you want but you are attending this dinner whether it be tonight, tomorrow night, or next week" Rachel states with blunt assertiveness, "you have been bailing out on your friends for too long now and it's time you started honoring your promises to hang out with us".

"What are you talking about? I spend most weekends with you guys!" I say as though she's lost her mind.

"Yea, as long as we're in a pub or a club! Santana, we're adults, and it'd be nice if you would hang out with us for reasons other than needing to get wasted".

"What are you gonna do if I don't go Rach? Ground me?" I say petulantly crossing my arms, "I thought when I left home, my _Mom_ would stop telling me what to do!"

"You really want to bring your Mom into this?" Rachel says with raised eyebrows, "because I can have her on the phone in about five seconds if that's what you want?"

Our argument reaches a stale mate as I stare at her in disbelief. "Y-you" I splutter "if you call my Mom I will seriously never talk to you again Rachel Frederic Berry!"

"Oh, that's mature Santana!" Rachel says raising her voice "resorting to name calling are we?"

"Well, why should I be mature if you just call my mother whenever I do something you two consider wrong?" I yell as I turn to leave her office "maybe if you both stopped treating me like I was some naughty teenager I'd be more mature!"

"Oh please, I've only called her on three occasions and all were situations which I feel appropriately justified my making the call!" Rachel says with hands on her hips. "And don't go thinking that because we're fighting you are getting out of going to dinner tonight, because I will pick you up from your apartment and personally escort you there myself if I feel the need" she says with an air of finality, "and that would not look good for Brittany's first impression of you".

"Who's Brittany?" I say with false naivety. Rachel had been singing her praises all week.

"6:30 Santana" Rachel says as she turns to sit back down at her desk "either you make your own way there or I'll bribe each of your neighbors to play the soundtrack to Funny Girl on repeat".

"As if you'd do that!" I scoff, but my tone of voice betrays my sense of uncertainty.

"I'll get each of them their own copy, and they'll stagger it every hour" Rachel says with a tone of voice reminiscent of a mafia boss "It'll be like a musical round of 'row row row your boat', but a lot longer, and a lot less rowing!" she says, her voice reaching a crescendo.

I pause to consider my options as Rachel pretends to be suddenly immersed in her emails. "6:30 it is" I say in a casual tone that fails to disguise my clear defeat.

"Dress pretty!" Rachel says with her usual eagerly excited tone as I leave her office giving the one-fingered salute.

6:15pm.

By the time I'd finished my fifth beer I'd already come to the decision I wasn't going to the dinner. It's not like I was going to miss anything fun anyway, and besides, I'm getting sick of everyone thinking that I'll be attracted to the first lesbian or bisexual woman I see. My god, when I was first thinking of coming out to my friends, I was afraid they'd feel weird and start treating me differently, instead they quiz every lesbian they come across incase she's my 'soul-mate'. Having them judge and treat me differently would have actually been better; being the lesser evil of outcomes there it turns out. Besides, no matter how many times I insist, they never understand that my type of woman is the heterosexual, preferably blonde, type who wakes up in the morning never wanting to see me again (the feeling is mutual).

I'm in the middle of thinking about the blonde with the boyfriend troubles and the massive tits that I brought home a couple of weeks ago when I hear my phone buzz.

_**From Rach**__:_ _I'm just leaving my apartment now, do you need me to swing by yours and get you?_

_**Santana**__:_ _No thanks. I am in the mood for a bagel though. Swing by the shops and pick one up for me would you doll?_

_**From Rach**_: _Santana, dinner is in like ten minutes you better be almost ready to leave. _

_**Santana**_: _Actually never mind, I just found a bagel in my freezer. Crisis averted. _

_**From Rachel**_: _Santana! I'm being serious! I'll see you at the restaurant in ten minutes!_

After putting my bagel out to defrost I decide to jump in the shower without responding to Rachel's last message.

By the time I'm standing under the hot shower my mind has wandered back onto the blonde from the other weekend. She wasn't all that pretty, and she smelled like bourbon. But she was blonde, and everyone knows I like 'em blonde. I lean my forehead against the cold glass of the shower and move my hand slowly down over my breasts and smoothly down my stomach. Slipping a finger into myself I can only feel a bit of wetness, but it's enough to dip into and rub smooth circles around my clit. My right hand moves to play with a nipple as my other keeps making smooth motions over my clit, back and forth, back and forth. _Fuck. _It doesn't take long until I start feeling the familiar warmth sinking into my stomach and my breathing starts getting heavier. As I pick up the pace and push two fingers into myself, I feel my walls starting to clench. The warmth in my stomach starts to build, but as usual it never quite reaches its' peak. My insides are clenching but the warmth in my stomach seems to have been replaced by emptiness. The same emptiness I get every time I've had sex or touched myself.

When I used to sleep with guys, I never knew what they were talking about when they said they were coming. It was only after being with a girl that I felt something, as though that feeling inside my stomach was building, turning into something greater. The first time I felt as though I was going to come was with Jasmine, a girl from my introductory chemistry class in college. It was the first time I'd been with a girl where we were both completely naked, and it was also the first time with another lesbian. In high school I had fooled around with a few girls, but never with any who were actually gay (or who wanted to admit they were). I was nervous, but Jasmine was confident, so when she asked if I wanted her to go down on me first I nodded and tried to remember how to breathe.

It felt good to have her down there. Kind of warm, but I was still a bit uncomfortable with being so exposed so it took a while for it to start feeling good. When it did start feeling good, I thought I was going to explode with happiness, for the first time in my life I was feeling what every normal person felt. For the first time in my life, I was with someone I was attracted to, and who was actually attracted to me. As my stomach started getting tighter, she moved up my body and replaced her tongue with two fingers.

**_Five years earlier_**

As she began kissing my neck, I moved my hand from gripping the sheets to stroke up her thighs and closer to between her legs. I hesitated as she thrust her fingers into me and I let out a moan. I felt her use her other hand to grab my wrist and push my hand further in between her legs. Despite being so close to whatever 'it' was, I began to slip my fingers through her folds.

My stomach dropped unpleasantly. She wasn't wet. Not even slightly.

My hand stilled and I opened my eyes. She must have sensed something was wrong because she slowed her movements.

"What?" she whispered with a tinge of annoyance.

My chest was starting to beat fast for all the wrong reasons and I felt breathless.

"You're not wet," I whispered.

"Yea, so?" she asked, her harsh tone of voice crashing through the silence my whisper had created.

Sometimes when it was late at night and no one else was home I used to imagine going down on a girl. I imagined the way she might tangle her fingers in my hair or moan my name. Sometimes I thought about her doing it to me, but mostly I just imagined going down on her. I could almost imagine the taste, and that I'd show her how much I loved her by touching every little part of her with my tongue, and kissing her intimate parts as deeply as possible. After she came I imagined easing her down from her high with my mouth, licking away any juices left behind. Not once in my fantasies was I left without feeling wetness between my legs.

Even though I wasn't in love with Jasmine, I had still become wet thinking about going down on her.

I'm brought back from my thoughts when I hear her release an exasperated sigh.

"You're not wet," I repeat pathetically.

"How can you expect me to be wet when you haven't even done anything to me yet Santana?" she says with a laugh "I don't understand why you're freaking out".

**_Present day_**

I don't remember how I managed to get dressed and leave her room without crying; all I can remember is being back in my dorm, crying on the floor of the showers and feeling dirty. And somehow betrayed.

Needless to say any good feelings she made me feel ended abruptly and I never quite came.

I had always thought that when I finally had a relationship with a lesbian that it would be magical, and special, and everything they taught you to hope for in fairy-tales. It definitely wasn't.

The following weekend I hooked up with some straight girl at a party. We didn't even take our clothes off, and after she came, I pulled my fingers out of her and left the room. Ever since then I've made a habit of avoiding any girls who aren't completely straight. It's easier, and no one gets hurt. They get their 'experimenting' out of the way, and I get a bit of a release, never quite feeling what everyone else seemed to find so easily during sex.

Having turned off the water already I was starting to shiver so I lifted myself up off the floor of the shower and put a towel around myself. I take a look in the mirror and sigh at my reflection. Even though I'm still wet from the shower you can clearly see the tear tracks marking my cheeks. _Get your shit together Lopez._

Through the bathroom door I can hear my phone ringing. I walk slowly over and pick it up, not surprised to see Rachel's name flashing on the screen.

"What?" I answer rudely. One of the things Rachel hates most is bad phone etiquette, and when I'm feeling agitated I tend to enjoy annoying her more so than usual.

"That is not how you answer the phone Santana!" she says, clearly mad "what if that had been a client?"

"What do you want Rachel? I'm kind of busy here"

"Are you freaking kidding me Santana?" she says angrily "Where the hell are you? I've been calling you non-stop for the last half hour!"

"Look, I've told you countless times Rach that you're not my type"

"Oh, shut up Santana, please tell me you're on your way to the restaurant? I've been telling Brittany all about you and she's really excited about meeting you" she says sounding hopeful.

"Oh sure, I bet the bisexual chick is super excited to meet me, and then afterwards, she can head out to meet her future husband because I'm sure she'll get bored with me and my lesbian ways soon enough" I mutter bitterly.

There's a pause on the other line before Rachel responds. "Huh?" she sounds confused.

"Look Rach, I'm not really in the mood to meet every girl you lot come across that shows a slight inclination towards having some girl-sex" I say with my best HBIC tone "so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat a bagel, I'll speak to you later".

After I hang up the phone I start feeling a little guilty for hanging up on Rachel and decide to send her an apologetic text in the morning. Until then, I need more drinks and more girls.

It can't be more than fifteen minutes before I'm hopping out of cab and walking into a club. It's not one I've been to before, but I figured the thumping bass was promising, and I didn't feel like accidentally bumping into the others at our usual hang out.

Walking inside, I stop to survey the dance floor. So far, no one has really caught my eye, not surprising though since there's nothing more unattractive than a drunk chick trying to be sexy on the dance floor, so I decide to scope out the bar first instead. I order three tequila shots and down them in quick succession. The bar tender raises an eyebrow and hands me a slice of lime. I pay him and chuck in a dirty look for good measure.

I've been sitting looking at my phone for a few minutes when I hear someone speak next to me.

"Something strong please" she says to the bartender, sounding so innocent, and with a hint of sadness. Her voice is sweet but there's something hesitant about it, as though she's scared she'll say something wrong. _What the fuck you weirdo?_ I think to myself, _she's blonde and she just downed three shots of god knows what, Get up on that!_

I'm trying to bring her face into focus as I feel the last shots hitting my head. I see blue eyes, but can't focus for long because she stands up and makes her way to the dance floor. _I'm coming for you sexy!_ I start prepping myself for my mad dancing skills but as I stand up, my legs give way and I find myself hugging the bar stool.

"Whoa there sexy! You need someone to hold you up?" I hear a male voice in my ear. It only takes a few times of throwing my fists drunkenly around in the air for him to walk away from me muttering profanities. When I find the top of the stool, I manage to look out to the dance floor and spot the blonde from the bar.

I feel my insides heat up as my eyes find her dancing. She's moving as though she's made for to be dancing. She's beautiful. The way she moves is magical and I find it hard to get my breathing under control. I shake my head and try to snap out of my daze. Hopefully the reason she sounded so sad is she got stood up by some dude and she's swearing off men for the night.

I return my eyes to the dance floor to see her heading back towards my direction at the bar. I swiftly push the guy off the bar stool next to me and move it out a bit more so she can see it. It doesn't take long for her eyes to fall on the stool next to me. I'm about to lay some smooth moves on her when she puts her head down on the bar and closes her eyes. I look around, slightly put off my game and then nod my head in determination before leaning down to speak in her ear.

"Wow, you're a natural, you can't just teach someone to dance like that," I say, hoping she hasn't passed out.

I see her shoulders tense a little as she slowly raises her head and sits up properly on the stool. I can see my own inebriation reflected back at me in her eyes, as she tries to focus on me. I can see that she's pretty and for a second I feel nervous.

"Rough night?" I ask with my signature smirk.

She just stares at me, I can't tell if she's still having trouble focusing or if she's trying to get me to leave. She eventually nods her head. "Yea". The sadness is back in her voice and I almost reach out to comfort her.

"Let me guess? You got stood up?" with my usual confidence back in my voice.

Her eyes drop to the beer coaster she's playing with in her hands. "Sort of, I guess".

"Well whoever he is, he's an ass and you deserve better," I say hoping that line doesn't come out sounding as practiced as I am at saying it.

She turns away and laughs, I think I hear "mm-hmm" over the music.

"What do you say we move onto the dance floor and you show me some of those moves?" I say, leaning in towards her. At first I think she's going to turn me down, but any doubt is pushed out of my mind when she grabs my hand and starts leading me to the dance floor.

It's a good thing she's taller than me because I have to lean into her so that I don't fall on my ass. As I turn around and press my ass into her, my breath hitches, feeling her hands move around and softly hold my waist. I've never danced with someone like this before, the way she's holding me, and the way were moving feels amazing. I feel myself getting lost in the music and the feel of her pressing into me. I spin back around to face her and move in to kiss her neck.

"How about we head into the bathrooms?" I ask barely removing my lips from her neck I hear her exhale in approval as she takes my hand, and once again weaves a path through the crowd.

By the time we find a free bathroom, all I can feel are her hands touching my waist and her hot breath on my neck. The drinks have clouded my head, but it feels so good. So warm.

I slide my hand up her thigh and push up her dress until I feel the fabric of her underwear. I feel her lick my pulse point, then suck the skin between her teeth as her lips close over my neck. I shudder as her hand starts making its' way under my own dress and as she pushes inside me I exhale, and start moving my fingers through her folds. She's warm and it feels like I could do this forever.

I use my other hand to slide her underwear further down her legs, and she takes a second to let them fall to the ground. I turn her away from me and she leans her head against the wall as I reach around and enter her again. Her arm is reaching behind her, pressed between our bodies as her fingers fills me up so perfectly. Everything feels calm. I can't hear the music anymore, only our breath as we move closer and closer to what feels like bliss. I rest my head on the back of her neck as I begin to feel my stomach grow in soft warmth. It only takes a few times of her pushing into me for everything to come. My whole body feels warm, and I have to lean against her for support as I moan into her hair, my muscles slowly clenching, and then relaxing in ecstasy.

I feel her try to turn her head and look at me so I resume stroking through her soft folds. As she pulls her fingers out of me I shudder and breath into her neck. I use my other arm to pull her tighter into me and begin to move in and out of her faster. I place kisses on the back of her neck and I hear her moan. It doesn't take long before I feel her clenching around my fingers. I continue holding her as she comes down, and we stand there and just breath together.

After a few minutes we pull apart and I start to rearrange my dress. She's bending down to pick up her underwear when I see it. A tattoo. It's of a cat and it's right in the middle of her right butt check. I can't help thinking that on anyone else it would have been cause for laughing at, but it just looks so sexy on her that I can't help but reach out and smooth my thumb over it. She pauses and then steps into her underwear without looking at me.

_Fuck, what am I doing?_ I think to myself. Did I just caress her ass? _Creep._

As she stands up I try desperately to avoid her eyes. We're standing there awkwardly for too long a pause, so I look up, and I see the reason is that she's trying to avoid my own eyes by staring at her hand, which is resting on the lock to the door.

I cough awkwardly and reach for the handle as well and open it. When we get into the hallway, we both ignore the impatient glares of the people in line and walk back towards the music. As we get back into the chaos, I glance up quickly and just catch her eyes. So blue. Being surrounded by the thumping music reminds me of how drunk I am still. We both glance up quickly again, and with awkward smiles we go our separate ways.

It's only when I'm lying in bed alone and staring up at the ceiling that I wish I'd asked for her name, or that I'd taken a better look at her face. _She was definitely hot though I got that much at least, _I laugh to myself trying to get rid of the feeling of regret in my stomach.

Glad I didn't waste my time going to that homosexual's celebratory dinner. I may be gay, but even I need a break from Kurt sometimes. I think there might actually be a real thing as there being too much gay in one room. It's like an imbalance in the universe or something.

It's only as I'm finally drifting off to sleep that I allow myself to think to myself _I just had my first real orgasm._

My dreams that night are filled with soft touches and warm breath. And all I can see is soft skin, adorned by an elegant black cat. And bright blue eyes.

**Ta-dah! hope you guys liked this chapter...I'm a little embarrassed about the smut in it, not being an experienced writer, I'm sure you can all understand that I've definitely NEVER written anything like that before. Oh and sorry for any grammatical mistakes I made, I'm too embarrassed to read over it so for all I know, this chapter made no sense.**


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